


Moonlight Music

by Mathissi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Music, Music AU, Teen Wolf, Teen Wolf AU, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mathissi/pseuds/Mathissi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale thinks he's had it good all this time. He has everything: Fame, Family, Music, and a successful career. What more could he want? Well... that'd be Stiles Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Thanks for clicking that link, first of all! I really hope you like this. I've been wanting to write something like this for the longest time and I finally did it! I really need to figure out how to do the rest! Let me know if you like it or not... I just want feedback please!!

Derek Hale had never really expected their little band to become anything. When he and his two sister had survived the fire that consumed their entire house, family and all, the distraction had been welcomed with open arms and tearful faces. The fact that Hale (their band) had become an international success shocked all three siblings. But Derek wasn’t one to complain.

Derek liked to associate his life with that of a phoenix. He liked thinking that from the literal ashes of his family, he’d been born anew; that he and his siblings were finally getting a break:  
Laura had been able to find a nice relationship and had settled down while still being able to tour. Laura had begun dating the future manager of Hale only about a month before the band got it’s big break. When Charlie had lost his job at some bank, Laura propositioned the position to him and… it’s history from there.  
Cora was finally happy. She was playing guitar for a living - a secret dream of hers that had never really been that secret to anyone - and she was able to experiment with music. She had fallen in love with a few people, but none ever lasted. Even when bad relationships came along, she was able to keep her head held high, knowing she’d always have music to fall back to.  
And Derek? Well, he wasn’t to sure about himself. He thought he was happy, and he sure as hell loved his position in life: the band, his family, everything. He was happy in a sense, but he believed that he could be much more… or was it more that there was a missing piece. Something was wrong, even if he couldn’t quite put a finger to it. Something made him crave more. Something… oh well, it wasn’t ruining his life, so he was content to be content.

After the first hit of Hale, Derek had moved the headquarters of the band south (from Beacon Hills, CA to Malibu) so that they could be much closer to the production warehouse and recording studios. Cora and Derek had originally held down the house together while Laura and Charlie moved in together. Eventually, Cora had moved a few miles away, in a much larger house than the one Derek owned. It felt empty after she left, but after a few years, it grew to be Derek’s safe haven. Now, Derek could be perfectly content living in his small Malibu house (well... small for rich Malibu houses) for the rest of his life and just writing music.

In fact, that’s where Derek found himself now. He was sitting on his ivory leather couch, looking out the large-paned glass windows at the waves that were rolling onto the bleached white sand. He wasn’t particularly focussed on anything other that the mental writing block inside of his head. He knew that their first two albums had been major successes because of the musical sound the band produced, but he knew that his part was unfulfilling to the caliber that their third album needed.

Derek had always and would always be in charge of writing the music for the band. It was his life policy that if he was to sing the lyrics, he should probably write them and mean them. This wasn’t to say that Laura or Cora didn’t input anything to the lyrics, but they usually left that job to him while they came up with the melodious hooks and catchy drum beats.

He needed to write the last few songs on their album, but all he could come up with was a rewording of previous songs.  
“Fuck,” he mutter to himself, dropping the notebook and pen he’d been holding and lurching to his feet. He felt the need to go running, but he wasn’t sure he’d have enough time before Cora came over. He checked his watch and realized that he was right, no time to run today. Cora would be there in less than a half hour (or she was supposed to be and would probably be forty five minutes out).

Cora came over for a meal every time they had a show. She always said that Derek made food like chefs dream they could (which wasn’t true, not to say that his food was bad). Derek liked having her and she liked food, so it worked out. And then they would go to their show together. Tonight was a simple Malibu night club that they were making a surprise appearance. It really had been Charlie’s idea, and he had good enough intuition to be believable.

Charlie said that the problem with many celebrities was that they seemed too unattainable. So he regularly scheduled many ‘unscheduled’ appearances so that the group would be able to seem like they weren’t ‘too good’ for the smaller venues. And none of the band complained, especially not Derek. Derek actually prefered the smaller shows because he could be more intimate with the people he spent his time singing to. For him, that connection was the best part of the job.

Derek went to the kitchen to rummage through the cupboards and pull out the various things he’d need for his and Cora’s meal. He had already pulled out the chicken to thaw and he had the marinade soaking all it’s goodness into the breasts. Cora liked chicken and chicken was what Derek prefered before a show (he was superstitious that it bettered his ability to sing). The roasted tomatoes and the rosemary would partner well with the marinade. It was satisfactory.

He poured them both glasses of water (no ice for him, extra ice for her) and filled a pitcher with a little bit more. Setting them on the table, Derek heard the sound of footsteps on the path leading up to his front door. He wiped the condensated water from his hands and moved to the door, pulling it open as Cora rounded the corner. He smiled at his younger sister.

“Hey, Cor.” he said in welcome.

“Der, you ready for tonight?” She winked at him, returning his smile with her dazzling teeth.

“Am I ever not?” He asked, poking her in the rib as she hugged his neck and entered the house, setting her bag down like she always had when she’d lived here.

“Touché!” She chided, moving into the house and doing her typical inspection. She’d been dying to redecorate the house since she’d moved out. She always said it was a different ‘era’ of the house and that Derek needed something new.

“The chicken will be ready soon enough.” Derek said, silently moving to the kitchen, his sister following at a lazy pace. 

“Good, good.” Cora said absent mindedly, before continuing, “so did Laura call you?” 

“No,” Derek felt a pang of anxiety strike his heart with the force of a blunt ax.

“God, chill out.” Cora could see the anxiety in Derek’s eyes like always. “The van broke down, so I have to take the drums to the show. That means we gotta drive separately tonight, because my passenger seat is occupied by Lola.” (Lola was Cora’s guitar.)

“Oh, well shit.” Derek said, concerning the van. “Well, I don’t mind driving on my own. It’s not too far, so it’s not like anything will happen. And Laur’s gonna meet us there?”

“Sounds like she and Charlie will get there about an hour early to make sure everything gets set up like we need it.” Cora took a sip of her water before setting it down and coming to look over Derek’s shoulder. He had already put the chicken in the pan and he was waiting for the perfect brown color to appear. “Mmm, smells good.”

“Thanks.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They sat in silence, which was normal and no longer felt awkward. They ate the food that Derek had prepared and he took Cora’s compliments with grace. When they were done, Derek did the few dishes he had left to clean and he started the dishwasher, drying his hands slowly. Cora gave him a searching look.

“Hey,” she said it tenderly, as though she were stepping near an animal trap and didn’t want to get caught, “what’s up?”

“Nothing.” Derek mumbled, smiling and shaking his head.

“Bullshit that’s nothing. Something’s getting to you. C’mon...” She patted the seat on the couch next to her as she sat down.

“It’s really nothing, just a bit of writers block.” Derek said, looking her in the eyes so she could see his honesty, without sitting.

“Is it really writers block or sexual frustration?” Cora jibed.

“Cora!” Derek gave her a look of complete indignation as his cheeks reddened a small bit.

“I’m just asking, I mean… I just have a feeling it’s been a long time for you…” She held up her hands in a preemptive surrender.  
Derek simply made a huffing noise and threw himself onto the couch. He rolled his eyes at her and then put his feet across her lap. If you only knew, Derek thought as he checked his watch. They had about another fifteen minutes before they should get on the road and star heading to the venue.

“Cor, where even is this place?”

“It’s just down Pacific Coast near Pepperdine.” She responded, pulling her phone out to check an incoming text.

“And its called Midnight something?”

“Moonlight Music is the place. It’ll be a bunch of college age kids, so maybe you’ll be able to find someone to help you relieve your… um… writers block.” She smirked as she said it.

Derek responded by pushing her off of the couch with his feet. She laughed as she stood up and dusted herself off (as though there was any dust on her!). She didn’t resume her position but walked off somewhere, only to reappear within the next five minutes.

“Get up, let’s go.” She said, her voice returning to its crass, commanding sense. Derek compiled by rolling off of his couch and starting to put on his shoes. Cora always seemed to get jittery before she actually got on stage. It was her sheer excitement to do what she really loved. Derek smirked at her as she bounced up and down in impatience.

They drove their two cars, Derek’s black camaro and Cora’s Hummer (she claimed to be environmentally conscious) to the venue and they made it there with excellent time. Derek helped lift the drum set out of the back of the Hummer. He knew that there were people whose job it was to help with this kind of grunt work, but he didn’t consider himself above physical labor. He would let them carry the drumset to the stage, however, as he had absolutely no idea where the stage was in the venue.

He and Cora entered the building through the staff door and they worked their way through the throngs of employees - waiters, bartenders, busboys, stagehands, et al - until they almost physically ran into Laura. She turned, her mouth twisted as she was biting the inside of her cheek (her nervous habit), but smiled when she saw her siblings, reaching out to give them a hug.

“Hey guys!” Her voice squeaked a little bit on the ‘e’ in ‘hey’. “Glad you found the place. I was convinced Charlie was gonna get us lost, but he didn’t and we’re here so…” her voice trailed away when Charlie walked up and greeted the two, then kissed his wife. He chatted for about two hyperbolic seconds before his little hummingbird personality dragged him away to oversee some other aspect of the upcoming show. Hale really couldn’t have asked for a better manager.

“You guys ready for tonight?” Laura asked in a whisper as though it were something that should be kept hidden from the surrounding staff.

“Hell yeah!” Cora screamed in complete opposite tones as Laura. All three siblings snickered as Derek nodded his head along with Cora’s outburst.

There was no soundcheck for the show because the group was officially playing an impromptu gig, so Laura would be a little extra nervous. In all the years that they had been a band, not one of the three had grown accustomed to the feeling you get before a show. Each one still felt the nerves; the desire to remain relevant; to put on a good show.

Before they were aware of it, they were getting onto the stage (a curtain had been lifted up between the small sized stage and the crowd, which was dancing to a banger sung by Rihanna or someone). Derek took his place behind the microphone, pulling the bass guitar over his head as he set his bottle of water on the ground by the amp. He checked that everything was plugged into his guitar and his microphone before he looked around. Cora had her guitar pick in between her teeth and she was fiddling with the knobs on her guitar; Laura was sitting on the stool behind the drums, her sticks in one hand, making sure she was able to reach all of the various drums before she actually had to play them.

Derek breathed one last time before letting himself zone into what he had to do. He knew the setlist; he knew the process; he knew the desirable reaction from the crowd. He had done this a million times before, but he just wasn’t quite sure what felt different about this night, this entire day. He shook his head as the staff backstage waved to get his attention. He gave them the go ahead and he planted himself in front of the microphone. He smiled.

The curtain dropped to reveal a mixture of people dancing around and focused on one another. At the drop of the curtain, they all turned to see what had been previously hidden. The first screams started in the back of the crowd. Then, a realization swept across the crowd, spinning them all into a frenzy. The response was deafening; the response was perfect.

At the first hit of the drum from Laura, Derek began the first song. It was a little tune called ‘Claim’, which had been their first number one single. At the all too familiar chords, the crowd’s frenzy grew. Derek finally felt comfort in knowing that this crazed response was positivity, that his art was a success. 

Derek sang as best he could, which was pretty damn good, and as he got into the groove of the performance, he was able to begin searching the crowd. Cora hadn’t been lying when she’d mentioned that it would be a predominantly college students. It seemed to be a typical college nightclub, nothing special. But then, it hit Derek.

It was the large, brown eyes that first hit Derek. They were stunningly powerful, just in their most basic look. Then it was the bowed lips, their red perfection. Then the hair, disheveled. The awkward dancing, gangly limbs flailing. The hands, reaching up to the stage. As the full sight hit Derek, he almost choked on the lyric. 

He felt his face begin to flush a bright red color. He kept singing, as distracted as he could possibly be, he did his job. At the song break, he drank half of his water and exchanged pointed looks with Laura (Cora was in her own little world as she played). He simply breathed as she turned back to her drums. The next song started with acapella vocals, so he was controlling the start of the moments. Derek looked back to the crowd and searched for the boy. He scanned over the faces and locked eyes with him - those beautiful brown eyes! - before he started to talk.

“How are you guys feeling tonight?” He waited for the screams to subside. “Sounds good! Now, since tonight is a special night, I’d like you all to dance your hearts out. And because I feel like dancing too, I don’t think I want to dance. So, whoever I see dancing the hardest, I’m gonna pull you up here!” The screams were explosive. Derek turned and both of his sisters (even Cora looked up) gave him looks as though he lost his mind. He flushed and realization hit them.

Laura chimed in, “Y’all ready?!” and the screaming response was beautiful. Derek nodded and then he began to sing. He watched the crowd dance. There were people who were really dancing their lives away, but Derek had too much of an agenda. Even though the boy wasn’t specifically dancing well, he was dancing hard. Every time Derek’s eyes passed over the boy, he felt a rush of (oh my god, were they really?) butterflies.

After two or three songs, when they were at the instrumental intermission (so Derek could take a moment or two to himself), he decided it was time to pick the person from the crowd. So again, he searched (the boy kept moving around, but always fairly close to the stage) and caught the boy. Everyone had their eyes on him, as he walked up to the stage and pointed, his arm reaching out over their heads.  
As Derek ignored the many hands that were attempting to grab his, he watched the boy start and look around for the pick. Then he attempted to move out of the way, but Derek simply followed the boy’s movement with his hand. Then the boy’s face turned a bright red, his cheeks ablaze, as the realization hit him with full force. The crowd began to grab at him, hoping to be dragged along onto the stage, but ended up pushing him up to the stage.

By the time Derek helped pull him onto the stage, his face was the color of red wine. Derek shook his hand and gave him a hug (as you do when you meet fans), and then introduced him to everyone. “So, what do you call yourself?”

“Uh… Stiles…” The boy - Stiles - said.

“Nice to meet you, Stiles. I’m Derek.” The crowd screamed and Stiles simply nodded. “You ready to dance?”


	2. Chapter 2

The great majority of the rest of the night was all a blur for Derek. He remembered actually attempting to dance, while Stiles eventually lost his inhibitions on the stage and danced like he had been in the crowd. For the majority, the cat calls and screams were positive for the rest of the show. Derek did his job, he could well remember that, but he wasn’t sure how he ended up off stage, sitting in the back room.

As he came down from the adrenaline-high that was performing, he found a pen in his hand and words scribbled across the back side of a napkin. The lyrics spun from his mind as though they were ribbons uncurling from a mayday pole. On that little piece of paper, he’d written the chord progressions, vocals and lyrics to the chorus of a song. And it was good.

He looked up from his stupor and looked around the room. He was alone in it, but he could hear the pulsing music of the club just a few rooms over. He could feel the vibrations of the music through the very concrete as if it were calling his name, the dance floor calling his name. It was this point that Derek realized the missing piece of his life was out there - not specifically on that dancefloor - but out there in the opportunity.

Derek found himself out in the hallway before the train of thought had even reached the conclusive station to go out onto the dance floor. He wasn’t sure where Cora or Laura had gone, but he didn’t particularly care that much about them in the moment. For once, he was doing something for himself, however uncharacteristic that may be. As he approached, the dance music had grown louder and louder, reverberating even deeper throughout his body.

Derek couldn’t quite connect the pieces of that night, thus far, but he could feel his mind beginning to clear, as though a dense fog were lifting from his head. He remembered getting out onto the floor. He remembered a few people screaming his name and grabbing onto him. He remembered grinding on someone - multiple someones, randoms. He remembered sweat dripping to the floor as he moved his body, feeling free and brainless, in a new stupor unlike the previous. He woke up as he bellied up to the bar.

The music still was reverberating through him. It wasn’t his style to sing, but he could appreciate a good track like the next musician. As he ordered his whiskey, he closed his eyes and tried to center himself. He was acting out of character, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t worried about his public image, nor was he concerned about what people would say if he had a hook up with some random person. He was ready to live again; it’d been far too long. 

He took his whiskey straight and he shook his head to remove the last of the haze that had been inhabiting his memory. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders before aiming his feet directly at the dancefloor. He was only a few steps away before he was intercepted by… Stiles. Stiles simply stepped before Derek and Derek reacted by freezing.

“Hello.” Stiles initiated this time, his eyes and voice purposeful in a half-drunken state.

“H-hello.” Derek responded half questioningly, half affronted.

“I have a question for you.” Stiles swayed a little bit as the beat dropped out from the current dance song. He was drunk, but his speech was perfectly coherent and, for a drunk man, was quite eloquent.

“Okay. Ask away.” Derek was expecting the typical fan-esque question: ‘who is your inspiration?’ ‘how do you write songs?’ and so on. He was very much wrong.

“Why did you pick me… I mean to go up on the stage and stuff?” Stiles’ face fell into a droopy-lipped, slacked inquisitory look. Derek had a hard time not laughing at the expression. It was just so candid and so adorable. Derek sent that thought from his mind instantly, realizing he still had a few inhibitions even in his drunken state. Stiles continued before Derek could respond, “Because, I mean, I’m really not a good dancer, so I just thought I could go for it and… yeah, so why?”

Derek did laugh a bit before he responded, looking Stiles in the chocolatey brown eyes. “I picked you because you were going all out, dancing like no one was watching; because you didn’t think that anyone would take notice. Well, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. I saw you every time I looked into the crowd. I picked you because I liked you.”  
Stiles didn’t move for a second, then his face broke into a goofy grin. It slid onto his face as easily as a shoe onto a foot. His eyes glimmered and his ears raised a little bit as his cheeks perked up. His lips thinned out as his grin widened. “Okay, then.”

Stiles then had the audacity to grab Derek’s hand and pull him onto the dance floor. Derek was so shocked that he couldn’t even figure out how to respond. So, in true un-Derek fashion, he went with it. Both he and Stiles were drenched in sweat, but that only made the black lights and neon colored walls more sexually charged.

Although it hadn’t looked like it when Stiles had been dancing earlier in the night, the boy did have decent rhythm. As they danced, Stiles and Derek were able to keep up with one another, grinding to the beat and getting lower as the music built up stronger and stronger. Derek felt Stiles’ hands moving over his body and Derek began to paw (awkwardly, he had to admit). He even thought he heard Stiles laugh a little over the music as he reacted to the touch.

Again, they danced. They went all out, playing hard. Luckily for Derek, people seemed to realize that his interest was directed to Stiles alone, and they let him be. Derek lost track of time as they danced together, their bodies like koi fish, moving in tandem around one another, in perfect synchronicity.

As a particular remix of one of his own songs was building to a climax, Derek spun Stiles around to face him and they continued dancing, looking into one another’s eyes. Their dancing increased and their bodies grew closer (as if that had been actually possible), and their faces were mere inches from each other. Derek could feel Stiles’ breath on his face, warm and sweet. Derek grinded his hips close at the smell and Stiles grinned softly.

As Derek looked into Stiles’ eyes, he could see how sober the human connection had made Stiles (similar to the way it had made Derek feel instantly sober; lifted the fog). Derek wrapped his hands around Stiles’ waist as they danced, pulling him closer and letting his lips graze at Stiles’ neck. Stiles’ head reared back and a grin spread across his mouth.

Derek nipped and bit his way up Stiles’ neck, moving down his jawline and grazing his lips. Derek could taste something sweet on his lips, like the sweetness after tasting a well made whiskey, or a perfectly aged scotch. Derek felt his inhibitions pull away and he pressed his own mouth against Stiles, feeling all the tension finally leave his body.

Derek had missed this. Not Stiles particularly, hell, he’d only just met the kid. He’d really just missed the human connection shared through pure passionate kissing. He missed feeling another person grind up against his body. He’d missed feeling wanted rather than feeling desired as though he were simply an object on the stage.

Before he knew what was happening, Derek had Stiles in the back of the room, in his car. They were in the back seat of his car when Derek’s mind finally caught up with his body. He felt his shirt pulled from his body, and the intake of breath that came from Stiles’ lips was sharp. He looked down the length of his naked torso and found Stiles greedily toying with the bulge that was rapidly growing at Derek’s groin.

Stiles mouthed at the head of Derek’s cock through the denim, but it was almost enough for Derek to cry out in painful joy. Jesus, he thought, how fucking long has it been? He couldn’t answer himself because at that point, Stiles was pulling off his own clothes. Derek couldn’t believe that the gorgeous boy from the crowd could be more beautiful.

Stiles had a porcelain skin that outlined leanly toned muscles. An array of moles like a set of constellations ran across his back and front, making his skin unique and stylistically unique. It was as though he had planned to be beautiful. And he really was, he was so beautiful. Derek felt his jaw go slack.


End file.
